


RE:Loaded

by spiderosee (dokidave)



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Abandonment, Anxiety, M/M, Makeup Sex, Peter Parker Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 09:42:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14788097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dokidave/pseuds/spiderosee
Summary: Wade walks back into Peter's life after ruining it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> sorry idk what i just did?
> 
> its 4am and im just puking out words
> 
> im exhausted but im trying to learn to write again

Peter watches the city quietly. It’s been another boring night, not even a purse snatcher to chase down. He sighs when the sun starts to come up. Maybe it’s time to go home.

He lifts a hand to swing from the roof, and then his spider sense is RINGING.

He twirls on his heel and sees a figure in the shadows. “Don’t you know it’s not nice to sneak up on people?” he asks, falling into his fighting stance.

“Pete!” he hears, and his heart drops out his ass. He instinctively takes a step back as the figure steps out.

“…Wade?” he asks, so quietly he’s not sure the man will hear him.

“My baby boy,” Wade says, his arms out wide for a hug as his mask comes into the dim morning sunlight. Peter can hear the grin in his voice, even if he can’t see it. “I found you!”

“You  _found_  me?” Peter says, hiss sharp as the narrow of his eyes. “You LEFT me!”

Wade’s arms falter as he slows to a stop. “…Would it help if I said I was sorry?” he asks.

Peter’s fists clench even harder, his breath caught in his chest. It’s been nearly three years since Peter last saw the other man. Three silent years. “No,” Peter answers evenly. He turns back to the edge of the roof and jumps.

“Peter!” Wade shouts, but his voice cuts out in the wind and Peter doesn’t hear him. He rushes to the edge and nearly falls off as he frantically looks around. Fuck, he’s gone…

Wade sighs and supposed that was just about the reaction he had been expecting. Really, this was probably the best case scenario.

He turns from the ledge and reluctantly makes his way back to the fire escape. It took him  _so long_  just to get up here, only to go straight back down. Stupid.

By the time he hits the bottom, his stomach rumbles. He covers it with his hands and considers his options. Peter is already so much faster than him, it won’t really matter if he makes a food stop. He starts toward the nearest corner store.

Peter doesn’t look back until he’s halfway through New Jersey. He finally slows down and stops on a new roof. Okay, maybe he over exaggerated a little bit… He didn’t need to run this far, it’s not like Wade could keep up with him.

He just sort of…  _panicked_.

He’s still panicking. His body trembles and he can’t feel his legs. There are tears in his eyes, his heartbeat loud in his ears, just  _pounding_. He covers his ears with his hands and sinks to the floor, still shaking.

 _What the fuck, what the fuck_ –

_Can’t breathe–_

_WADE._

_Oh god._

_What the fuck._

He hates himself for this. He’s shocked, upset,  _angry_. He hasn’t had a panic attack in months, he was doing  _so good–_

_but he’s feeling so much right now–_

_it’s overwhelming–_

_he can’t breathe_

_he can’t feel his limbs_

_or his face_

_he’s shaking and crying_

_he can’t take it–_

Eventually, he gets a handle on himself and manages to sit up straight on the ground. He stands and dusts himself off.

It’s full daylight now, and he doesn’t think he’s going to work today.

He swings back toward the city, head heavy and full of fog. He needs a solid 12 hours of sleep after that, he’s fucking exhausted.

He nears his apartment, and stops. He easily clings to the side of a building while he considers that, maybe, possibly, his own apartment isn’t the best place to go right now. If Wade were as predictable as Peter thought he was, the merc would be at Peter’s place, waiting.

He starts back in the other direction. The only other place he could go is Wade’s.

He lands on an escape and slide up Wade’s window. He hugs himself tightly as he makes his way inside. His chest is tight and heavy as memories flood back to him. Everything he sees in the flat is another stab in the heart.

 _Wade_ …

Peter glances at the bed, but he can’t bring himself to touch it, let alone fall asleep in it. He passes the couch, too, no way. He wanders aimlessly, numb, until he finds himself in the bathroom. He climbs inside the tub and pulls the curtain shut.

He tugs off his mask and hugs his knees.

On the other side of Queens, Wade is curled the same way on Peter’s bed. He’s been waiting for hours and Peter hasn’t come home. Was the guy really that mad at him? 

_[What did you think would happen?]_

_[He hates you.]_

_[You don’t deserve him.]_

Wade lets his head fall back, banging it against the wall with a loud thud. Maybe he needs a different approach. He pulls out his dying cell phone and calls a taxi.

Forty six minutes later, he’s unlocking his front door. The place is meticulously clean when he steps inside. He kicks off his shoes and goes to the fridge. He opens it and it’s–

empty.

Obviously.

He hasn’t been home in a while, after all.

He shuts it with a sigh and rubs his sore neck. He might as well take a shower and get some sleep. Think on a new plan.

He strips his mask, his gloves, his whole suit in the laundry hamper. He reaches behind the curtain to start the water, let it heat up while he brushes his teeth, but–

Peter shrieks as the cold water shocks him awake.

Surprised, Wade pulls the curtain back to see a fully clothed Spider Man in his bath tub, getting drenched by the shower.

“Shut it off!” Peter cries, his hands over his face to block the onslaught of water.

Wade shuts it off and, for once, is at a loss for words. He only watches until Peter’s unmasked eyes settle on his own.

There’s a long tense silence.

Eventually, Peter says, “…It turns out… that they were aliens the whole time.” He fidgets with his fingers, looking anywhere but at Wade’s face.

“Who?” Wade asks, his eyebrow raised.

“You told me,” Peter starts again, working hard to keep his voice from shaking. “That you’d be right back. I paused the movie while you answered your phone. I waited.” His eyes snap on Wade’s. “You didn’t come back. I never heard from you again.”

He is shaking now, emotions raging through him.

Wade reaches forward, and Peter jerks back.

“Don’t you dare fucking touch me,” Peter hisses. He slips past Wade and escapes the room.

Wade stands there, naked, at a loss for several seconds. He looks back and fourth between the door and the showering, wondering what he should do.

_[Follow him.]_

_[Don’t bother, he clearly hates you.]_

He can’t hear Peter in the flat, so he assumes he might as well continue his shower. He turns the water back on and lets it burn his skin.

He stays in the shower long past when the water turns to ice.

He towels dry and goes about his business. He gets bored reading emails and decides he needs some fresh air. He slides the door open to his balcony, and who else but Peter would be sitting there on the railing.

Wade leans his elbows on the rail furthest from where Peter is sitting.

“I can explain…” he tries again.

“I know,” Peter says. He’s suspiciously calm now.

Neither of them look at each other.

In the beginning, it was rough. They fought constantly, Peter avoided the guy at all costs.

A few team-ups later, Peter could begrudgingly call them friends. Only after Wade swore off killing.

Weeks go by, months, until Peter’s heart starts to race just seeing Wade’s face. It didn’t help that Wade was naturally such a flirt.

Another adrenaline-packed fight later, and they were hot and bothered and breathing and touching and kissing and

that was it.

They had sex more often than they fought. It made Peter dizzy.

The night he was going to tell Wade how he felt, was the night Wade disappeared.

At first, Peter wasn’t worried. He knew Wade had a life outside New York. Other clients. Other friends. Whatever.

Days went by and Peter still wasn’t worried. His mind would wander while he sunk into Wade’s couch, buried in Wade’s sweater, his eyes closed as he waited for Wade to come home.

Another week, and Peter started to get antsy. He ran out of things to watch on Netflix, so he started to clean. Wade would love to come home to a clean house, right?

Another month. The flat was spotless. Peter’s hands shook as he polished the windows again.

He lost track of time, spending most of his days curled up in Wade’s bed. He binge watched their favourite shows. He looked through their pictures on his phone. He listened as Wade’s voicemail told him yet again that Wade’s mailbox was full.

The only thing that got him out of the house was the idea that Ellie hadn’t seen her father in just as long as  _Peter_.

“Uncle Spidey!” she would squeal, running into his arms. He’d hug her tight and and she would ask him, “Where’s daddy?” He would smile and tell her fantastic stories so he wouldn’t have to tell her the truth.

Enough time had passed, that he started to believe that Wade was dead.

It became routine. He went back to work. He would pick Ellie up from school. Take her home to her mother. Go back to the lab. Stay all night. Maybe sleep a few hours. Back to work.

Three years went by.

And there are silent tears in Peter’s eyes again. “I hate you.”

“I missed you…” Wade responds, but he knows Peter doesn’t believe him.

Silence again.

Peter’s heart aches.

He wants to believe Wade had a good reason for leaving. He wants to, really.

He goes tense when Wade’s arms wrap around him from behind. He’s rigid when Wade’s voice sounds in his ear.

“I missed you…” Wade repeats.

Peter can’t take it any more. As angry and hurt and confused as he is… Nothing in the world beats this touch.

“Prove it,” Peter breathes. He turns his head to look back at Wade. “Take me back inside and  _show me_  how much you missed me.”

Wade scoops Peter up and carries him back inside the flat. He only makes through the glass door before Peter is throwing him on the floor.

Wade lands hard on his back. He doesn’t even have a second to react before Peter is on him, easily pinning him with his superior spider strength. And then Peter is kissing him.

It’s raw, angry, hungry, and leaves them both breathless. Peter bites Wade’s lip and pulls it back until it hurts. “You’ve got a lot to make up for,” Peter says, eyeing Wade with anything but affection.

“Of course, Baby Boy, let me make it up to you…” Peter’s suit leaves him as Wade flips him on his back. He sucks in a breath when Wade’s hot mouth is suddenly back on his skin, and for a second, Peter forgets it all. He’s back in the past when everything was okay.

Wade kisses bruises into Peter’s skin. His neck, his shoulders, his chest, abs, Wade covers him in love. He comes to Peter’s cock and doesn’t hesitate to take it down his throat.

Peter hisses and grips at Wade’s shoulders. God, Wade’s mouth was good for so much more than just pop culture references.

Wade keeps at it, pleasing Peter in every way he knows until even Peter’s super stamina is worn out.

Peter’s hot and gross and he’s lost track of how many times Wade has made him come. His eyes are closed and he pants as his last orgasm filters out.

“Wade… take me to bed,” he says, unable to open his eyes anymore. He’s tired, physically and emotionally.

Wade obeys and carried Peter to the bed. He curls behind him and pulls the blankets over them both.

And Peter melts against him.

No matter how Peter feels, there’s something about Wade’s touch. It calms him down, makes him feel safe, like he’s  _home_. He wants to pretend that Wade never left. Maybe it was all a nightmare.

“Ellie misses you,” he says. Wade stiffens behind him. “She deserves better. Count yourself lucky she’s too young to hate you.”

“Peter–”

“Save it. I don’t want to hear it right now.” Peter turns and buries his face in Wade’s chest. Softer, he says, “You’re lucky I’m too stupid to actually hate you.”

_[You manipulative fuck.]_

_[Even after everything you did to him.]_

_[You don’t deserve him.]_

_[You don’t deserve **her**.]_

_[You should have stayed gone.]_

“I’m sorry, Webs…”

Peter sighs and pushes himself away. “I’m going to shower.” He glances back over his shoulder, pausing in the doorway. “You better have a good fucking story when I come back.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is shorter than the first chapter but im an inconsistent fuck ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

When Peter comes back, Wade is waiting for him. He’s on his side, pulling the covers up invitingly for Peter to slip inside.

It’s so easy for Peter to imagine this is how it’s always been... So he takes the bait. He cuddles back up to Wade’s chest and simply listens to the man breathe quietly.

Wade pets a hand through Peter’s hair. He kisses Peter’s forehead and wonders how much longer this will last. He caused so much pain, after all.

“I died,” Wade says.

Peter looks up, brow raised. “Yeah?” he asks, not knowing where this is going.

“I died... a lot,” Wade continues. “When I stepped out for that call, they grabbed me. Some scientists from Germany, still don’t really know who they were. I think they wanted to know how my healing factor works because... they  _pushed it_.”

Wade hesitates. “They would drown me, I’d die, they’d keep me under until I regenerated, and died again. Drowning over, and over, and over. They would take me apart, piece by piece, just to watch me grow my missing parts back.”

Peter goes pale, stiff in Wade’s arms. Suddenly... everything is backwards.  _Peter_  is the guilty one. Wade was suffering, trapped, and Peter didn’t even bother to  _look for him_. Just assumed the worst. 

 _What a horrible fucking friend_.

“Wade--” Peter starts, but Wade cuts him off.

“I mean, I’m fine. Whatever. I bided my time until I could escape. They’re all dead now.” Wade clutches Peter a little tighter, terrified the Spider would run. “I’m sorry, Peter, I didn’t couldn’t help it--”

“Stop. Stop apologizing,” Peter interrupts, his voice cold. “I’m glad you killed them." He looks up to Wade’s face, eyes serious. “They deserved it.”

“Pete...” Wade says softly. He knows Peter doesn’t mean it. He would never kill someone, no matter what they did.

They lie there in uncomfortable silence. It’s thick in the air, both undeserving of the other’s company.

Peter traces the scars on Wade’s chest, unable to imagine the sheer amount of pain and fear and agony Wade experienced while he was gone. He tilts his head up and presses a kiss to Wade’s lips.

It’s soft, lingering. “I’m sorry for doubting you...” Peter whispers against Wade’s lips. “I guess... this makes me the bad guy. This whole time, I thought the worst of you... Turns out  _you_  needed  _me_.”

Wade doesn’t say anything. He opts to kiss Peter again instead. The only thing that got him through it was the thought of coming home to Peter. His baby boy... His sweet ass.

Wade slides his hands over Peter’s naked torso, around to grip his ass. “I missed you,” he says again.

Peter bites his lip, a shiver running up his spine. “I missed you too...” he finally says.

It occurs to Peter that this isn’t how their relationship left off. This is... so much more intimate. Wade never would have admitted to missing him before. Sure, he’d joke about it covered in some sexual reference, but never outright.

That’s all it was before Wade left. Sex and friendship. This is different.

Peter rolls on top of Wade. He strokes Wade’s face and touches their foreheads together. “I’m glad you came back...” he breathes, soaking in Wade’s heat.  _Because I love you_  strangles in the back of Peter’s throat. He doesn’t say it, kissing Wade again instead.

He grinds his ass down on Wade’s hips, and the noise he gets in return nearly brings tears to his eyes. He  _missed_  Wade’s moans.

“You haven’t come since you came home...” Peter points out. Wade had only taken care of Peter before, not himself.

“Yeah...” Wade agrees. He hadn’t been that upset about it before, he was more worried about making sure Peter was okay. But now that Peter is fine... “Did you throw the lube away?”

“Um...” Peter says, remembering throwing away  _everything_. It would have been long expired after three years, anyway. “I did... but I think I’ll be fine with like... spit. I guess.”

Lube is a gay boy’s best friend, and Peter is honestly a little nervous about not having any. But on the other hand... He hasn’t felt Wade inside him in  _three years_.

“I got it,” Peter promises. He kisses Wade again before sinking beneath the sheets. He nuzzles his old friend, pleased with the fact that Wade is already hard. He cups Wade’s balls gently in one hand and takes his cock in his mouth.

He makes it messy, to make Wade as wet as possible. He bobs his head with hollow cheeks, the taste of Wade’s flesh making his mouth water. He doesn’t fight it when Wade’s hips buck and clog his airstream. He takes it like a champ, drooling over Wade’s cock as he takes it in the throat.

The, Peter has to breath. He coughs and shakes when he finally pulls back. His vision spots, but he forces himself to sit up.

Wade thinks Peter is beautiful like this. Cheeks pink, chest heaving, a glaze over his eyes.

Peter lines up, Wade’s cock pressing back in a way that’s just not quite satisfying.

“I think you should take the lead...” Peter suggests. He’s already exhausted after their long day, and this is for Wade anyway. The merc should get exactly what he wants.

So Wade doesn’t give a warning before he thrusts in. He grips Peter’s hips in his hands and fucks up into him like he might never get the chance again.

Peter cries out and claws at Wade’s chest. It  _fucking hurts_ , but it’s  _so good_. It’s exactly what they both needed after all this time.

They cling to each other, all hands and lips and teeth and frantic thoughts. Despite the fact it shouldn’t be possible, Peter manages to come yet another time.

His muscles contract and squeeze Wade even tighter than they had before. Wade hisses and grips Peter’s hips hard enough to bruise. It doesn’t take long for him to follow suit, and then they’re in a pile again on the mattress.

Wade’s hands find their way back into Peter’s soft hair. They listen to each other breathe, coming down from their high, and finally,  _finally,_  the tension seems to lift. There’s nothing left in the air but content silence.

As Wade starts to drift to sleep, Peter speaks quietly. “You know I love you, right...?”

Neither of them move, but this time, it’s okay.

It’s okay that Wade doesn’t respond right away, because after everything, Wade came back to him. 

“We should get some sleep. Ellie get’s off school at 3:00 and we should pick her up together.”

Wade’s arms wrap tight around Peter's shoulders, and he knows everything is going to be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> possibly to be continued


End file.
